


Welcome To Our Home

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, DInner and a show, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Murder Husbands, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal doesn't mind when a burglar tries to break into his and Will's house. But not for the reason you might think...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome To Our Home

**Author's Note:**

> A little fic to thank some Fannibals who helped me out with a thing last week. Hope you enjoy, and remember to always eat the rude.

1\. 

 

Will tumbles to the mattress, pleasantly fatigued and no longer interested in trying to keep himself upright and straddling Hannibal. He gives an exhausted giggle, then looks at Hannibal, whose expression is one of abject adoration. “Do I look that great, freshly fucked?” Will asks. 

“To see you laugh,” Hannibal says, “to see you unable to contain your happiness, is an endless source of pleasure to me.” 

Will relaxes amongst the tangled covers and gazes at the ceiling. “Sometimes I wish that...” He turns his face away. “Never mind.” 

“What is it?” 

“No, I shouldn't tell you. It's just something I've thought about. I would never try to make it happen.” 

Hannibal props himself up on one elbow. “If it is just a fantasy, what is the harm in telling me?” 

“I'll tell you,” Will says, “but before I do, I want you to know that this is just something I think about once in a while. I don't need for it to happen in order to be happy or anything.” 

“I understand. Please tell me.” 

Will has cooled off now. He shifts so that he can pull the blankets out from under him, get them over him, settle in for the night. Safely ensconced in the covers, he whispers, “I like the idea of...someone watching us. Like, us showing off how beautiful it is, what we have. I want someone to see us enjoying each other.” 

“A lovely sentiment,” is Hannibal’s dry response. 

“Now don’t you go getting any ideas.” Will points an accusatory finger at him. “It’s just a fantasy.” 

“When have I ever,” Hannibal says.

 

 

2.

 

It’s several months later, and Will and Hannibal are all snuggled up in the home they share, a cabin far from civilization. They’re in their pajamas, under a blanket in front of a cozy fire. They’ve just finished their customary evening drinks, and are now just lazing about, nuzzling each other, putting off having to get out from under the blanket and adjourn to the bedroom, because it would mean being cold for a few minutes. 

It’s quiet, only the crackling of the fire to interrupt a perfect silence, and so they clearly hear the sound of an exterior door in another room being manipulated. They leap from the sofa, and Will grabs the gun from beneath it. Hannibal follows him to the source of the noise. 

What they find, as they enter the sun room, is a man in dark clothing, having just succeeded at picking the lock of the sliding glass door. Will lunges at him first. He shoves the gun in the burglar’s face and says, “You picked the wrong remote cabin, buddy.” 

Hannibal is close behind, and places a calming hand on Will’s shoulder. “Now, now, darling,” he says. Hannibal never calls Will “darling,” so it throws him a little. 

To the burglar, Hannibal says, “My husband was in law enforcement, you see, which is why he is so quick to bring out a firearm. A bad habit, if you ask me. Lacks elegance.” 

Ah, Will understands now. Hannibal is playing the Good Cop to Will's Bad Cop. 

Hannibal continues, “But you are, in fact, quite stupid. Did it not occur to you that anyone living this far from civilization must be well equipped, both materially and psychologically, to keep the wolf from the door, by whatever means necessary?” 

The burglar is dumbstruck, as it dawns on him how poor of a decision he has made. Hannibal goes on: “Perhaps you saw the expensive car in the driveway, and assumed that the people living here were rich and naïve.” 

This is true. The burglar nods, almost imperceptibly. 

Hannibal divests the man of his gun and various other criminal implements. He’s carrying no identification or mobile device. “What’s your name?” Hannibal asks. “If you give us a fake one, that’s fine, but make it something you don’t mind being called for the rest of the evening.” 

The burglar says, “Jake.” 

“Jake. Welcome to our home.” Will still has the gun basically up the guy’s nose while Hannibal says this. “I’m glad you could join us. You may be able to assist us with something.” 

To Will, he whispers: “Do you remember what you told me a few months ago, about wishing that someone could see us, and what we have?” 

Will nods, not taking his eyes off his target. 

“Would you like this person to be that witness?” 

Will considers this, and finally shrugs. “Sounds good.” 

“Excellent,” Hannibal says. He excuses himself for a moment and returns with an office chair, which is on wheels, and upon which sits a roll of duct tape. “Jake, now I’m going to have to ask you sit in this chair.” The burglar hesitates, because he’s afraid if he moves, Will might shoot him. But Will indicates that he is alright with what Hannibal has requested. 

Once seated, Hannibal secures the burglar to the chair with the roll of duct tape. He is very thorough; there is no hope of escape. Hannibal leaves the burglar’s mouth untaped, but warns him, “If you start to say rude things, I won’t need to tape your mouth shut, because you will soon be lacking the organ necessary for articulated speech.” 

Will follows Hannibal as he pushes the chair into the bedroom. He parks it alongside the bed, so that the burglar has a clear view; but not too close to the bed. Back against the wall. 

“I hope you’re sitting comfortably,” Hannibal says. “You’ll be here a while.” 

“He likes to take his time,” Will adds. 

Their prisoner is silent. He is hopeful that if he cooperates, he will be allowed to go free, afterwards. 

Hannibal approaches Will and begins to undress him, pulling his shirt off over his head. Will works on the drawstring of Hannibal’s pajama bottoms. It takes a rather long time, because they keep stopping to kiss and touch. They continue to stand there at the side of the bed, playing with each other’s cocks until they’re both hard, and only then do they get in the bed. 

They roll around a bit; they often don't know what their lovemaking configuration will be until it's actually happening. They might wrestle a bit until they decide who will proceed as the more dominant one for the evening. Tonight, they settle down side-by-side for a while, with Hannibal nearer to their burglar but facing away from him. Will occasionally peers over Hannibal's shoulder at him, but ducks down again if eye contact is inadvertently made. He is at once enthralled by and bashful about being watched. 

Hannibal can feel the eyes raking over his body. He turns and says, “You may be wondering about the unusual scar on my back. The man who gave it to me is dead now.” He twists to lie on his back, so their observer can have a better view of Will. Gently touching the scar on Will's face, Hannibal says, a little more dreamily, “The man who gave my beloved this scar is also dead now.” 

The burglar's eyes move to the long, jagged scar across Will's belly. Hannibal sees this. “Ah,” he says, “now that is a more complicated story. In any event, I hope you don't find our scars distracting. We don't. Our scars don't hurt anymore.” 

At last, they seem to come to a decision about how things will proceed, as Will rolls onto his belly, and Hannibal mounts him. Hannibal takes a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He pours a generous amount into his hand, thoughtfully warming it before applying it to Will’s body. 

He spends some time at this, absorbed in his task, before he says, conversationally, “Will always requires a great deal of preparation, when we make love this way. It's natural for the body to resist this sort of intrusion, so I do not begrudge it for an instant. To witness him becoming gradually more pliant and receptive is a joy to behold.” 

He's now working two fingers deeply into Will, and with his other hand is squeezing out lube like he owns stock in it. 

“He feels so delicate inside, but I can be quite rough with him, if he asks for it.” Hannibal adds a hopeful lilt to the end of his sentence, but Will shuts him down. 

“No, I don't want to play rough tonight,” Will says. “Show him how sweet you can be to me.” 

“Whatever you wish.” Hannibal adjusts his position slightly, sitting up straight while he slicks his own cock. He has enough foreskin that even when he's fully hard, it still covers the crown. He sees the burglar watching and then hastily averting his eyes, trying to pretend that he's not aroused by the sight. Will, meanwhile, is now free to get his knees under him, to prop himself up on his elbows. 

Hannibal drapes himself over Will's body, reaching down with one hand to aim himself. His cock is long, but it’s plain to see that every inch of it goes inside Will. And Will clearly appreciates it very much, judging by the noise he makes. 

Hannibal gives him slow but powerful strokes, something he can really feel. He keeps his pace steady, so Will can pick up on his rhythm and move accordingly, pushing back, rolling his hips, to get the most from every thrust. 

Will can tell that Hannibal is showing off, putting on a display for their observer. But he doesn't mind; it's really only Hannibal's usual approach, just turned up a notch. Will turns his head, facing the burglar but not meeting his eyes. “He's so good to me,” Will says. “He loves me so much, and he makes sure my every desire is fulfilled.” 

Will favors their observer with the occasional wry smile, but in all honesty, he finds it difficult to concentrate on anything other than what Hannibal is doing to him. When Hannibal had first made the suggestion, Will had had a moment of ambivalence; did he really, truly want someone to witness them? His “Yes” had been impulsive, but he's glad he agreed to it. He is having no difficulty now in surrendering himself to Hannibal’s attentions, and the performance he is giving is natural, a true reflection of the physical manifestation of his and Hannibal's bond. 

Hannibal glances over at the burglar, to indicate to him that he is being addressed. “Tell me, Jake,” he says, “and be honest. I don't want you to lie to spare anyone's feelings. Which one of us are you more envious of? Whose place would you rather be in, at this moment?” 

He gets no response. 

“I asked you a question, Jake. Which one of us would you rather be?” 

The burglar, entranced by the hypnotic harmony of their bodies, is only then snapped out of his reverie by Hannibal’s voice. “Ah…I guess, you,” he says, as he locks eyes with Hannibal. “I'd rather be you.” 

Hannibal chuckles, regarding Will fondly, stroking his back and flank with reverence. “I can't say that I blame you. The opportunity to enjoy Will's body should be the envy of any human being. Not that you will ever have such a thing. No one will, ever. Will belongs to me, and if anyone so much as attempts to touch him, I will kill them.” 

Will adds, “But don't think that just because you haven't touched me, that means you won't die. We are definitely going to kill you. Together.” 

Hannibal puts his arms around Will’s ribcage, pulling him upright and into Hannibal’s lap. “Yes, my lovely Will is a killer,” he says with a chuckle, then growls, “Just like me.” He keeps one arm wrapped around Will, while his other hand closes around Will’s cock, jerking him with swift precision and thrusting into him with increased ferocity. It’s not long before Will’s thighs begin to shake, as his noises of pleasure become more urgent. 

Hannibal gives the burglar a sly, smug look, before returning his complete attention to Will, peppering the back of his neck with sweet kisses as Will squirms and whimpers his way through a powerful orgasm. Hannibal thrusts only a moment longer, stopping mid-stroke as he begins to ejaculate. He holds Will tightly, keeping them together even as his oversensitive cock begins to soften inside Will's body. At last, they separate slowly, and with a little mutual wince when Will’s body finally pushes Hannibal out. They collapse on the bed in a tangle. 

Just for a moment, Hannibal is distracted by the thought of the gleaming, meticulously maintained butcher knives in the kitchen. But it is not time for that just yet. He returns his attention to Will, for the time being. Will lolls on the bed with a grin a mile wide, and it makes Hannibal so happy; Will has had such a good time. And the evening isn't nearly over. Soon they'll be having even more fun together...though unlike the preceding event, their new friend Jake won't be able to enjoy it all the way to the conclusion.

 


End file.
